


Slingshot

by M_Monoceros



Series: Event Horizon [3]
Category: Star Wars Episode VII: The Force Awakens (2015)
Genre: Angst, Hurt No Comfort, Hux is sad and bad at interpersonal relationships, Kylo is sad, Kylux - Freeform, M/M, Post-Canon, Post-Star Wars: The Force Awakens, i made myself sad writing this, sorry - Freeform, there's sex but it's also sad
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-29
Updated: 2016-03-29
Packaged: 2018-05-29 19:40:42
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,586
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6390625
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/M_Monoceros/pseuds/M_Monoceros
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>He tried to catch his breath. Couldn’t. He was choking, suffocating, he tasted blood and the world was crumbling around him; the earth was heaving like his stomach, cracking like an egg shell, and they were all going to die—oh god—he had failed, it was over—</p>
<p>- </p>
<p>After the destruction of Starkiller Base, Kylo is broken, Hux is heartsick, and there isn't much hope for either of them.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Slingshot

**Author's Note:**

> So here's my crack at some post-Starkiller Kylux. Unsurprisingly, it's kinda bleak.
> 
> I've had this idea in my head since I first saw TFA, and it seemed like a good follow up to the first two fics in this series. :) 
> 
> Please leave a comment and let me know what you think! <3

He tried to catch his breath. Couldn’t. He was choking, suffocating, he tasted blood and the world was crumbling around him; the earth was heaving like his stomach, cracking like an egg shell, and they were all going to die—oh god—he had failed, it was over—

Somewhere in the distance alarms were blaring, wailing that something was wrong, as if they couldn’t see the firestorm for themselves out the viewport of the ship. A woman was screaming at him; he felt a rough hand on his shoulder, dragging him back to the present—

All at once the world snapped into sharp focus; there was a hollow sucking sound like the air rushing from a vacuum lock and then the ear-splitting din of the alarms and the rumble of disintegrating earth hit him full force, resonating sickeningly in his bones.

“General, we have him—we have Ren—”

“Go,” he gasped at the woman, shoving her away. “Go, damn it! Get us out!”

The viewport was engulfed in flame. They wouldn’t make it, they had wasted too much time—

Hux felt a jolt as the ship leapt into hyperdrive, straining to be free of Starkiller’s deadly gravity, engines churning and grating desperately against the colossal grasp of the imploding planet.

_It was over_.

A kind of peaceful calm stole over him at the thought. He had failed, and now he would de in an inferno of his own design. He would never be Emperor; no one would remember his name except to scoff, to snicker, to mock. He deserved no less.

And yet.

A flicker of desperate, pitiful panic licked the walls of his chest, and he couldn’t help thinking, _Please, please, please_ , _let me live._

There was a hideous crunch, another jolt, and his vision wobbled and snapped like jelly as the ship broke free and slipped into hyperspace; the world went dark, and Hux knew no more until he woke in the Finalizer’s medbay.

*

He was uninjured, and they discharged him as soon as he came to. Vitals normal, no broken bones or singed skin; he was unscathed.

Thousands of his soldiers had not been so lucky.

But to Snoke, this seemed only a minor inconvenience: the great Kylo Ren was safe, broken and catatonic though he was, and somehow that would be enough. So with Ren lying uselessly in the medbay, they sped towards the mysterious coordinates designated by Supreme Leader Snoke. What awaited them when they arrived, Hux couldn’t say.

During the days, Hux staved off the dull hopelessness that threatened to engulf him by busying himself about the ship, regrouping, taking inventory, and meeting with the what was left of his command team—those who had not died or fled with their tails between their legs. During the days, he avoided thinking of Kylo Ren, for when he did, the mess of emotions that writhed in his stomach was too maddening to indulge.

But after his daily operations were complete, when he lay wide eyed in his bed, not fully awake but unable to sleep, his thoughts drifted too easily. Nights on board the Finalizer were empty and cold, and the cloying silence of his quarters made Hux’s skin crawl; the mute darkness was like a deprivation chamber—sometimes in his half sleep he saw colours and stars that burst into flames, and even when he opened his eyes and turned on the lights the their afterimages were still burned onto his eyelids.

Sometimes, teetering on the edge of unconsciousness, he heard voices; occasionally they soothed him, cooing ghostly lullabies in his ear, but more often they hissed torments instead, until he was shaking and drenched in sweat.

Sometimes—rarely—he slept, and dreamt of a warm body next to his, soft breath on his cheek, and the gentle pressure of fingertips tracing the lines of his body.

*

In Kylo Ren’s private medbay room, the lights were low and soothing. Hux entered quietly, and as his eyes adjusted to the dimness he could just make out the ragged silhouette of Kylo’s body lying behind the curtain that surrounded his bed. Hux locked the door behind him and made his way over—he drew back the curtain to find Kylo awake and motionless, staring vacantly at the ceiling.

“You’re to prepare for arrival—Snoke’s orders,” Hux said tightly. “Though I’m sure you have a better idea of what that entails than I do.”

Kylo’s eyelids flickered dreamily, but he made no answer. Hux studied the wound across his face with cold revulsion—it was ugly and deep, running from just above his left eye to his jaw, neck, and shoulder. In the light, the blood leaching through the thick dressings looked black.

Inexplicably, a hot burst of anger flared in Hux’s chest. “Look at me when I speak to you,” he hissed, and reached out, wrenching Kylo’s face roughly towards him. _Please, please, please,_ went the chant in Hux’s head, though he wasn’t quite sure what it still longed for so wretchedly.

“Did you hear me?” Hux demanded, yet he couldn’t erase the misery from his voice. His hand gripped Kylo’s wounded jaw like a vice, but Kylo made no sign of discomfort.

Kylo flinched when Hux brought their lips together roughly. His mouth was hot and swollen and tasted of rust, unyielding, but Hux pressed forward anyways, prising his lips wider, pinning Kylo’s arms, holding him in place. _Please, please, please,_ went the chant, and maybe he said it out loud because suddenly Kylo was kissing him back fiercely, all sharp teeth and hot anger and spite.

When Hux clambered on top of him and fumbled with the clasp on his pants, Kylo jerked back violently, but didn’t throw him off. _He could have_ , Hux thought: Kylo could have slammed him against the wall, choked him, shattered him into pieces, as he had done so many times before. Instead his movements slowed as Hux’s hands raked over his body, tearing at his dressings and his papery medbay gown.

Hux pressed he mouth to the feverish skin of Kylo’s neck, though in that moment it felt as hard and impassive as marble. _Please,_ Hux thought with all his might, but he may as well have been kissing a statue. Kylo pulled him closer stiffly, wrapping his legs tightly around Hux’s waist and guiding Hux into him as best he could with so little preparation.

When Hux caught a glimpse of Kylo’s eyes, they were veiled and far away.

*

_The island._

Hux’s movements were frantic and sharp, and it hurt, and the cloying fear and hopelessness that rolled off of him turned Kylo’s stomach. His body sang with pain and everything blurred together until one sensation was indistinguishable from the next. But, despite it all, he could not tether his thoughts to the present. All feeling had left him, and the ragged breath in his ear seemed to come from very far away… He was consumed by blackness, and out of the void, the scavenger’s impossible island sped towards him.

He could see it rising from the depths of a jewel blue sea, as if he were a bird. It was half emerald green and half craggy rock face, sun-warmed and ancient. He saw it through her eyes and he felt her hope—the scavenger, the girl, the one who had bested him. He face swam before his mind’s eye—a vision bathed in violet, aglow with the light of the Force—and then her hope became his own and his heart ached when he thought of his father, the deep lines that marred his forehead _(they had not always been there)_ and the dawning shadow of despair as the man _realized—_ as he fell, dead even as he plummeted into the yawning void—

And then Hux stiffened, and slowed, and it was over; he lay with his head against Kylo’s chest, breath coming in sharp gasps. Kylo closed his eyes. He thought of the island, and the girl, and his father.

“I hate you,” he said, a statement free from passion. He wasn’t sure if it was meant more for himself or the man slumped on top of him.

Hux shifted, disentangling himself from between Kylo’s legs, and curled onto his side in the small space of empty bed next to him. His back just brushed Kylo’s arm, and Kylo could feel him shudder, sniffling wetly.

But the sound was very far away, and the stark ceiling of the medbay had faded from his sight; he only saw his father’s face and the neon spark in the scavenger’s eyes. The island was rising still higher from the sea, and at its apex shone a dazzling light, like a beacon.

_If he could just reach it…_

But in the vision he could only circle the mirage endlessly, whirling like a gull unable to land.

And so Kylo drifted on the air currents above the sea in his mind, and let the sound of the waves ease the searing numbness in his chest. He didn’t notice the fresh blood dripping from the wound on his face, trickling down his neck, smeared across his lips, or the blood seeping through the bandage on the hole in his side. He didn’t notice Hux, curled like a dog on the bed beside him, tears of anguish and fury pooling into a damp well on the sterile medbay sheets. And he didn’t notice when the other man rose at last, shoulders bowed, and padded quietly from the room.

 

**Author's Note:**

> ¯\\_(ツ)_/¯


End file.
